Valentine, Photographs, and Courting
by Nicholas de Vilance
Summary: //Simply Irresistible crossed over with Tough Luck// Archie LaFontaine has settled down raising his son by himself with no money. Constantly nagged by his landlord, he is forced to steal. This brings a very interesting change to his life. //slash//


Nicholas: Oh, so I finally finished chapter one. I'm not sure if this will take off until I finish To Who it Never May Concern, but I thought I'd give a taste of what this story is going to be like. If you think I should continue, REVIEW!! If you hate this and think it should die...REVIEW ANYWAY!!

Disclaimer: Don't own either movies. I wish I did. I put them together and have the Boondock Saints!!

Rating: T...language...rating is subject to change because of future chapters.

* * *

"I'm going out, Amanda," Tom called from the hall. He was in the process of pulling his coat on and running his hand through his hair and what not. "I'll be back in a bit."

She appeared at the end of the hall just outside the kitchen and it had the same affect on him now as it'd had on him seven year ago. Oh Jesus, seven years. It was hard to believe that they'd already been together seven years. Married, with a son, what a time lapse. "If you get back in time, could you pick up Mikey from school on your way?"

Both knew the answer. Yes, just because she'd asked. He'd do anything for her. "Yeah," he went up to her and kissed her. Most couples have those famous pecks on the cheek. The Bartletts have three-minute tongue-ties.

Once she was good and breathless, he held her in a tight embrace just to be sure. Who needs air, anyway? "Okay, Romeo," she said, slightly strained, "go have fun with whatever it is you're going to do."

"Alright, see ya tonight." He made it halfway out the door before turning. "Oh, what's for dinner?"

She laughed and walked back into the kitchen. "It's a surprise, now get out of here."

* * *

"See you tonight," Archie called, pulling his coat on, and getting out of there as quickly as possible. It wasn't that he didn't like his home—if that's what it could be called—he didn't like his girl. Well, she was really just a babysitter…a babysitter that he was currently sleeping with to distract her from collecting the money he owed her.

"Wait a second Archie, what do I do if Eddie wakes up? What do I tell him?" She appeared at the end of the hall just outside the living room/kitchen/dining room of his flat and it had the same affect on him as it always did. He shuddered inwardly and shrugged.

"Tell him I'll be back as soon as I can with some money and I'll take him out for ice cream."

"Shit-faced liar," she snapped. "As soon as you get money you gamble it all away, and don't you dare try and say that you don't."

"I don't!" He opened the door and began to walk out. "You have no idea what you're talking about, so shut up." Oh so calm his composure was, even though he was yelling on the inside. He didn't want to wake his son.

_His_ son, not hers. She was just another girl that had no idea how to be a mother. 'Just until I get some money,' Archie had promised his little boy. 'Then we'll go out and buy a house and live with nice people.'

"And what about the money you owe me! Archie, don't walk away while I'm talking to you!"

He spun around and gripped her arms—she'd walked as far as the doorway to pursue him. "Angela, go inside and stop yelling. If you wake up Eddie, you can go find someone else to live with."

Threats like these weren't uncommon—just more frequent since poor Eddie was sick and Angela couldn't hear the volume of her own voice. She just leered at him for a moment, broke free of his grasp and slammed the door in his face.

If the angry girlfriend bit wasn't tiresome enough, as soon as Archie had gone down the flight of steps to the ground floor, he was face to face with Conrad House. Even though Angela's shouts hadn't woken Eddie, they'd alerted the landlord. Archie saw the sour face on the old man immediately looked at his shoes, knowing exactly what was coming. 'Rent, LaFontaine. If that is your real name.'

Without fail: "I need the rent, LaFontaine, if that _is_ your real name."

"Right," Archie stated, in no mood to talk at all. "I'll have by the end of this week, I promise." Fuck talking, Mr. House demanded ass kissing, and Archie hadn't stooped so low since he was a fucking Carny.

"That's what you said last week, and the week before that," The old man looked tired of this. Believer you me, Archie was tired too. 'What am I supposed to do?' "What am I supposed to do with you, Archie? I gave you an apartment, I was the only guy in the city to do that, and I gave you cheaper rent 'cause you were down on your luck. You think anyone else out there is going to do that for you, kid?"

"No sir, I just…I need another week, you have my word." He put his hands together in a sort of pleading gesture. "Look, my kid's sick and right now I'm trying to get money for a doctor, but then my main priority will be rent, got it? Rent, rent, rent!" He started to walk past him

Grabbing Archie's arm, House raised his eyebrows: 'Just where are you going?' "And just where do you think you're going without any money?"

"I'm going to try an get a job," he stated obviously.

"A bum like you never had a job in his life. Listen, if I hear about you stealing, hustling card tables at the local clubs or any of that shit again I'll evict your ass so fast you won't know what hit you."

"It was a false, fucken, charge!" A good swat across the face shut Archie up quick.

"Watch your mouth kid. I'm the last shot you got." House was met with a silence. "Rent. In my hand by noon Sunday, or your ass is out on the streets."

* * *

Around three-thirty PM, Tom and Michael were walking away from school through the better-looking streets of downtown New York. Tom was on his cell phone while Mikey was occupying himself with doing his utmost to annoy his father. "Okay, Amanda, I'll be there in about an hour," Tom stated.

"Is it Mommy? Can I talk to Mommy?" The little boy gripped his father's sleeve and stood on his tip-toes, trying to reach the phone. He very much lacked the stature.

"Yes it's mommy," Tom replied, putting his hand over his cell, "but this is important, so Mike just stop talking." He returned to the conversation at hand.

Of course Michael, being the child that he was, didn't find interest in one side of the call, so he just pouted and ignored them. As he walked, and held on to his daddy's jacket as he was told to, he looked around. A few feet away, he saw a stranger heading towards them. "Daddy," he muttered.

Tom didn't notice—too engrossed in whatever his wife was saying—and didn't move to the side as he usually would have so the stranger bumped into him. "Oh shit, sorry," Tom stated adding a "no, not you" for Amanda on the phone.

"Nah, my fault," the stranger said. Mikey noticed that the man kept looking at the ground as if he was shy. And then the nameless person took off at a jog for some unknown destination.

"Amanda, look," Tom went on with his call, "_you're_ the chef. You should have thought about oregano before you hit the midday traffic. And it's Monday, don't you open later in the day?"

Again, this was not something Michael was interested in. He turned around awkwardly and watched the back of the man who had bumped into his father. Now Mikey doesn't have much experience with people, but he has good instinct, just like his dad. Right now, his instinct was telling him something wasn't right. The snap of a cell phone closing attracted his immediate attention, though, leaving no room for strange strangers.

"Dad, can I have a cell phone?"

Tom smiled lightly and reached down to take his son's hand. "Um…talk to me about it in ten years."

"Ten years!? But Suzie Lynn in my class has a cell phone."

"Suzie Lynn flunked first grade twice. She's older than you."

* * *

Archie leaned his back against the wire fence about three feet away from where he'd run into that guy and his son. He opened the wallet and immediately took out the cash. Damn, this guy was well-off. With an quick look around, Archie put the many twenty dollar bills in his pocket. There were other things in the wallet as well: credit cards, slips of paper with reminders on them, and then some photographs. Apparently this guy had a nice family. All of the pictures had the smiling faces of a woman—probably his wife—and that kid. Cute.

Taking the credit cards, Archie tossed the rest of the wallet over the wire fence behind him. There were many times he'd had to look at pictures of happy families in such wallets. He usually ignored that twinge of jealousy.

As he promised, Archie went to buy ice cream. He knew that Eddie probably wouldn't want to get up, so he'd bring the treat to the poor, sick boy. There was a shop about two blocks away. He took his time in going.

"Hey Sykes," Archie said once he'd entered the ice cream parlor. "How's business going?"

A very short, stout man came up to the counter and wiped his hands on his apron. For a small guy, he was pretty big, and he lacked any and all facial hair—he was even bald. "It'd be better if I had more customers like you: come in here every other day. It'd be nice if you'd actually buy something."

"Well, today would be that day. Get me two cups of French vanilla."

"You have money? Archie LaFontaine has money enough to waste it on ice cream? That's amazing." Sykes said this as he scooped the respective cream into two cups. "How's your kid doing?"

"He's getting better. Fever went down this morning."

"That's good to hear. That'll be five ninety three." Archie handed him a twenty. "I just have to ask, though. How did you get this?"

As if on cue, the door opened. Immediately, Archie cursed and turned away from the newcomers. Sykes gave him an odd look before he was able to put two and two together. "Don't tell me…"

"Yep," Archie stated before his friend could finish the sentence. "I promised Eddy I'd get him some ice cream. Just, please Sykes, don't draw attention to me."

The old man raised an eyebrow at his young friend. No matter how much he disapproved of Archie's methods, he knew that there wasn't anything else Archie could do to survive in the world. So Sykes accepted the stolen cash and handed Archie the change. He put lids on the ice cream cups and put them in a paper bag.

"Daddy, I want an ice cream cone!" The little kid was tugging his father's suit jacket expectantly.

"I know Mikey. I just…I can't find my wallet." He was searching his pockets nervously. He had definitely left the house with it, he never left it behind. "Shit…"

"Oooo! You said a bad word."

The man without a wallet smiled dryly. "I'm sorry. I don't think we can get ice cream today, kid." Little Mikey started to pout. "Don't look at me like that. Your mother probably wouldn't like me ruining your appetite anyway."

"But…you promised."

Something in Archie's chest twisted painfully. He stopped just as he was picking up his bag, his hand stayed in his pocket on the money that wasn't his. With a quick glance at Sykes, he sighed. His friend was giving him that "oh look what you did" look. "Shut it," Archie hissed. He pulled out the change he'd received and counted out exact change. "Give the kid his ice cream."

Sykes smiled at last and put the money in the register. "Hey there," he called to the two just as they were leaving. "How 'bout I get you a cone on the house?"


End file.
